


Memories

by Silvanuyx



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Eldritch Abomination Cecil, False Memories, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvanuyx/pseuds/Silvanuyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumor says that the Glow Cloud can impart false memories. Shame that Carlos doesn't know this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first thing I'm posting ever. Unbeta'd. If you see any mistakes, please let me know. Please be gentle with me.

Carlos stumbled into the bathroom and fell to his knees next to the toilet. What little he had in his stomach was forcefully ejected as he recalled what had happened the night before.

Over at Cecil’s place.

With Cecil.

He could still remember the shrieks and the slimy feel of -

Carlos dry heaved into the toilet again.

Why had he done that? Cecil had been smiling, and they had been kissing and Carlos had stood up, gone in to Cecil’s bedroom and picked up the ceremonial athame that was kept next to Cecil’s bloodstone circle as per the laws.

Then he -

Then he had -

He dry heaved again, before standing back up. He shied away from the memories again and stumbled out of the bathroom to the computer sitting on the small kitchen table, surrounded by papers.

It was the work of only a few minutes to navigate to the Night Vale Daily Journal’s website. He chewed on his thumb absently, then pulled it away to stare at it in disgust. He had washed his hands with the same thoroughness he used after working with microbes in his lab (he wasn’t a microbiologist, but then again, he wasn’t a biologist at all), making sure that every trace was gone.

There wasn’t anything on the website. Just some stories about how the house that didn’t exist suddenly existed and had eaten a citizen (not a surprise, Carlos had believed it would happen eventually), and how John Peters, you know, the farmer, had reappeared from where ever he had been, unaware of how much time had passed. There was a story about how the library was being expanded (two construction workers had already died due to librarian attacks), but nothing about Cecil.

Carlos turned off his computer and went to curl up back in his bed.

Maybe they just hadn’t found him yet. He wouldn’t be missed until shortly before the broadcast tonight.

Maybe Carlos could just leave.

No. He couldn’t do that. He would wait until they found him (as he had left him, and the thought made him retch again), then pick up the phone and tell the Secret Police he had done it.

He didn’t know why they hadn’t already picked him up. They seemed to know everything, even though he had closed all the blinds and unplugged the phones.

He turned on the radio next to his bed, listening to the sound of bird calls (and some that were not any bird he knew of).

Then, after what felt like years of bird calls and reliving horrifying memories, the opening music for Cecil’s broadcast came on.

Carlos bolted upright, staring at the radio as Cecil started to speak. Cecil had come back to life? This was a new broadcast, it wasn’t a rebroadcast like they had done when Cecil had lost his voice earlier in the year. He was chattering on about how happy he was that John Peters, you know, the farmer, had returned from whatever plane of existence he had gone to. That had just happened today.

Carlos swung his legs off of the bed and moved as fast as he could to his cell phone. He didn’t think he could call Cecil without breaking down, so he navigated to texting with shaking fingers, and quickly typed out a message to him.

“Can you come over? I need you. CM”

He hit send, and went to sit on the bed again, listening to Cecil talk, and smiled when he heard his phone chime, indicating a new message.

“Oh listeners! It’s Carlos. He says he needs me, isn’t that sweet of him? He’s so perfect. He came over last night, and, ah. Well. Let’s just say it got intimate, and he doesn’t like me to talk about that on the radio,” he said, his voice moving into a rather suggestive tone, and Carlos couldn’t help but laugh. Was that was Cecil called what had happened last night? Intimate? Well. It was an appropriate term. Carlos had gotten rather intimate knowledge of human organs.

He nearly threw up again as the memory boiled up.

_Look Cecil, here is your stomach! And these are your intestines, and here is one of your kidneys. They’re so gorgeous, Cecil, just like you. Oh, and this_ (crack and a scream from Cecil) _\- this is your heart. And it’s mine, just like you said earlier. ‘Oh perfect Carlos, you know you have my heart, right?’ You use such beautiful words, Cecil, in that beautiful voice of yours. This is why you’re the radio broadcaster, and I’m just the scientist._

Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown it out with Cecil’s voice as he continued to present the news. This had to be some fucked up Night Vale thing. He didn’t know what, but it had to be. That was the only explanation.

His phone chimed, and his eyes shot open and he grabbed the phone.

“do u need me now?”

Carlos chewed on his bottom lip. He wanted Cecil here now. He wanted to see him. To prove to himself that his boyfriend was still whole, without his internal organs in disarray on the floor of his apartment.

“Yes I do -”

He deleted that. Cecil needed to do the broadcast now.

“No, after the broadcast is -”

Also deleted. He wanted him sooner.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Finish the broadcast, but please don’t take too long?”

That was sent. It seemed the most right. Cecil had other obligations than to him.

There was no chime on the radio, so it seemed Cecil had turned off the sound on his phone, but the broadcast cut to the weather, and it wasn’t a minute before Carlos had an answer.

“do u want to meet me here?”

“No, I don’t want to leave. I don’t think I can make myself.”

“ill be there as soon as i can”

“Thank you, Cecil. I love you.”

“love u too perfect perfect carlos”

Carlos lay back down, and closed his eyes, letting the sound of the weather wash over him before it cut back to Cecil’s voice, giving the traffic (something about stones that lived lives), children’s science corner, a comment that apparently another construction worker had lost his life to a librarian, bringing the death count up to four.

Then it cut to a prerecorded sponsor message, and Carlos opened his eyes. That was strange. He didn’t normally use sponsor messages this late.

The small noises when Cecil came back solved it though. He had been getting ready to go. The slight jingle of keys, rustling of papers. It wasn’t more than a minute before Cecil was signing off with his normal “Good night, Night Vale, good night.”

Carlos smiled and closed his eyes. He would be here soon, and he would know that Cecil was still here, still alive, in one piece.

Much sooner than he had expected, the door to his small apartment was opening. “Carlos? Where are you?” Cecil called, and Carlos made a noise from the bedroom. It wasn’t long before Cecil stepped in to the room.

“Carlos? Are you sick?” he asked, and Carlos opened his eyes to see him. Perfectly whole. No blood at the buttons of his shirt, or staining his tie. But he had to see his skin. He had to.

He moved so he was kneeling on the edge of his bed, and Cecil stepped over, reaching up to touch Carlos’ forehead, then made a small sound of surprise when Carlos started to undo his tie and unbutton his waistcoat and shirt, his fingers shaking slightly

“Carlos, if you called me here because you wanted a repeat of last night… Carlos?” Cecil’s voice had started teasingly, then broke off in confusion when Carlos started to shake his head. He felt the tremors through his entire body. No. Never. He never wanted that.

“Carlos, why did you need me here?” Cecil asked, letting Carlos finish unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the clean, whole flesh beneath. Carlos leaned down to press a kiss to the center of Cecil’s collarbones, ignoring his boyfriend’s confusion for a moment.

“God, you’re okay. I… I remember… Shit, Cecil, what happened last night? No. What do you remember happening last night?” Carlos asked, his voice shaking as he pressed his forehead in to Cecil’s chest.

“You came over, I cooked us dinner, chicken with rice, we watched a movie, and missed the second half because we moved to the bedroom and - and made love,” Cecil said, his voice confused, but firm. “What do you remember Carlos?”

Carlos shook his head. “Not that.”

“Carlos. Tell me what you remember. Obviously it wasn’t the wonderful night that I remember,” Cecil’s voice rang with command, and Carlos shook his head stubbornly. He didn’t want to think about it. “Carlos. Tell me.” He shook his head again. “Carlos, it will be okay, I promise. I want to know so I can figure out what to do about it.”

“I remember killing you.”

“In more detail,” Cecil said, not sounding fazed by the words. He shed the opened clothes, sitting barechested next to Carlos, and tugged him towards the center of the bed.

Carlos took a shaky breath, then let it out slowly. “I remember coming over, eating dinner, and starting the movie. We started to kiss, and I got up. I - I went to get the athame you keep next to your circle, and - and I lay you on the floor and carefully cut - I carefully cut from here to here,” he dragged his finger from below Cecil’s navel to between his collarbones. “I - I showed you - then - then I, I put the athame through - through here,” he gently placed his finger on Cecil’s throat.

Cecil nodded. “I’m alright, Carlos. You didn’t do any of that sweetheart. I think I know what happened. The Glow Cloud, it occasionally tries to implant memories, false and dreadful memories, into people’s heads. Normally it tries to replace the important and momentous occasions. Our first time would be important to you, I would hope,” he said with a smile, and Carlos shook his head. If that was the case, it wasn’t just that.

“It was my first time,” he said, leaning his face in to Cecil’s chest, not wanting to look up at him. He hadn’t ever told Cecil that before.

“Even more momentous then.” Cecil paused, then grinned. “I wouldn’t have been able to tell, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, his voice gaining a lewd note to it.

Carlos huffed out a laugh, and shook his head. “A little, yeah.”

Cecil laughed gently. “I can do something about it here, but if you want it to be gone, we’ll have to go to the Secret Police. They can fix your memories, and erase it and this day, while bringing last night back. I can… Well, take away it’s significance, the horror you feel of it. It will leave the memory intact, but there won’t be anything to it, it will just be there. That should also allow the true memory to resurface,” he said, considering everything.

Carlos looked up at him. “You do it. I don’t want them anywhere near last night,” he said firmly, and Cecil laughed.

“Understandable. Lay on your back then, and… I will understand if you don’t want to be around me after this,” he said, and Carlos’ brows came together in confusion at the end of that.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be around you?” he asked, but obeyed, laying on his back.

Cecil just looked at him, then crouched over him. “Open your mind, Carlos, let me in. You’ll have to trust me,” he said, and Carlos looked up at him, confused until he felt a touch that wasn’t a touch and it was strange, and completely alien feeling. Somehow, he opened something (it was like a door opening) and that feeling entered.

Even as he watched, Cecil seemed to… change. Just in subtle ways, like his joints seemed too sharp, and when he opened his mouth, his teeth were too sharp, pointed and there were rows of them. It was when he blinked that the biggest change occurred. The white sclera of his eyes had been swamped with black, leaving just a ring of violet surrounding a black pupil.

This was what he had meant.

Carlos didn’t think anything of it. He had suspected that Cecil wasn’t quite human anyway. No human could have been an intern at the radio station and lived.

Then the alien feeling found the memory, and Carlos shrieked when it rang, and it was almost like it was happening again. Everything was stark and there. The ridges of the hilt of the athame, the way that the skin had that much resistance to being cut, the way he had needed to be so careful to not kill Cecil as he had sliced open his skin, the amount of pressure it had taken to crack the ribs without puncturing the heart or lungs, the way Cecil had screamed, the slippery way the heart felt in his hands, and the way it pulsed against his thumb.

The way Cecil’s trachea resisted the point of the athame as Carlos drove it through his throat.

Then - all of that was gone. Carlos could see a mist drifting up through the air, and Cecil’s mouth opened wide - too wide - and he drank it in, sucking the mist into his mouth, and licking his lips with a pointed tongue when it was gone.

Then the alien feeling faded from his mind, and Cecil returned to normal. Carlos was panting as he looked up at Cecil, whose face slowly grew uncertain as he pulled away.

“Carlos?”

Carlos just grabbed at his wrist and pulled him down next to him on the bed. Cecil looked surprised, but smiled gratefully. “What happened last night, Carlos?” he said, his voice nearly a purr, and Carlos smiled when he thought back on it now. He had two memories of last night. The memory of pulling Cecil apart with a knife and his hands was faded and dull - not important, not horrifying.

The memories of Cecil coming apart in a different way were vivid and new, and Carlos grinned. “You know what happened last night, Cecil,” he said, then rolled back on top of his boyfriend - his lover - with a laugh.

Cecil laughed with him, and smiled. “Good,” he said, and Carlos smiled. It didn’t matter that Cecil wasn’t human. It didn’t matter what Cecil was. What mattered was that they were here, and that Carlos loved Cecil, and that Cecil loved Carlos.


End file.
